As the Drunk Crow Flies
by somethingcool
Summary: Kyle's reaction to Stan coming out results in a very confusing twenty-four hours. Style, one-shot.


As the Drunk Crow Flies

It was a normal weekday evening. Kyle was hanging out at Stan's house, playing Chubby Heiress. Stan had been a little quiet, but Kyle just guessed that he'd been plotting a strategy to get Kyle's heiress on a diet so he could kidnap her. This hypothesis was called into question when Stan lost five games in a row.

"Dude, you all right?" Kyle asked, resisting the urge to click "New Game" and boost his high score. "You've been totally sucking tonight."

"Yeah. Well, actually." Stan seemed to be gazing intently at the screen, but Kyle was pretty sure he hadn't really been paying attention to it. "I think I'm gay."

There was a long pause. Finally, Kyle broke it.

"Huh?"

"You know. Gay. I think I like guys." Stan laughed. "Well, I know I do, actually."

"I know what gay means, Stan," Kyle said, reproachfully.

"So, yeah." Stan shrugged and clicked the "New Game" button that Kyle had previously been hovering over. He charged into battle, finding his way unimpeded thanks to the fact that Kyle was gawking at him and not paying one whit of attention to the game any more.

"Oh. Um. Since when?" Stan looked at him with exasperation.

"I don't fucking know. Always, maybe."

"But Wendy-" Stan shrugged.

"I dunno, dude."

"Oh. Uh." Kyle knew he was supposed to be more supportive than this, but he had no clue what the hell to do. "Do you want me to do anything about it?"

"It'd be awesome if you sucked my dick, but-" Before Stan could finish the sentence, Kyle had fled out of the room and was hurdling down the stairs. Stan dashed out of the room and yelled after him.

"Joking! That was a joke!"

It was too late. Kyle had left the premises. Stan sighed. He figured he should maybe use a different strategy when he told his parents.

* * *

Stan hoped that the next day Kyle would be over the previous night's revelation. It was a pretty futile hope, but Stan was an optimistic guy. Besides, Kyle was his Super Best Friend. If he couldn't count on a Super Best Friend to be there for him, well, he didn't know what, but it sucked. So next morning, he cheerfully strode up to Kyle and Kenny at the bus stop.

"Hi!" he said. Kenny responded similarly, but Kyle dropped his phone and mumbled a very formal "Hello" as he picked it up, not meeting Stan's gaze.

"What're you playing?" Stan asked, peeking over Kyle's shoulder. Before he could really tell what was on the screen, Kyle had shut the browser down. "Oh, were you looking something up? Did you not get your homework done last night?"

"Like Kyle could not do his homework," Kenny sniggered. "He'd have a heart attack or some shit-"

"I would not go into cardiac arrest over that," Kyle huffed, his face red. He turned his attention back to his phone as if it contained the secrets of the universe, although he just seemed to be flicking through his phone book."I've not done homework lots of times-"

"Name three."

"That time in second grade when my first goldfish died," Kyle began, ticking the instances off on his fingers. "When I was in eighth grade and I was in hospital for a week-"

"Those don't count, dude," Kenny said, with a sad shake of his head. "Fuck, I didn't do homework three times or more last week."

"Hey, you guys!" Cartman dashed over as quickly as he could. "You guys won't believe this, but seriously, I have the best news ever."

"Oh, yeah?" Kyle asked, still not looking up from his phone. "You're moving?"

"No," Cartman said, pouting. "I found a hack in Call of Duty that lets you turn your gun into a dick! So then I ran around shooting people with my dick!" He and Kenny laughed.

"That is so gay," Stan said. Kyle finally looked away from his phone.

"You shouldn't use 'gay' pejoratively," he said.

"I wasn't," Stan protested. "I was using it literally."

"But it could be construed as pejorative," Kyle argued. "'Cause that's so fucking dumb."

"But shooting someone with a dick is pretty gay! It's totally phallic!"

"What?" Cartman asked, his brows furrowed. "Are you guys ragging on me or not?"

"Yes," Kyle replied.

"No," said Stan. "I mean... Well, it is gay, but gay isn't bad-"

"But your intonation clearly suggested that Cartman's stupid hack was stupid!"

"Dude, why do you care so much?"

"Because Kyle has sand in his ass-vagina," said Cartman, edging his way back into the conversation. "Probably from being butt-fucked on the ground."

"There isn't sand on the ground in South Park, dumbass. The white stuff you see before you is called 'snow'."

The argument was derailed by the arrival of the bus. Kyle sat down next to Butters, forcing Stan to find a seat elsewhere. He sat down next to Wendy, with Kenny and Cartman sitting in front of them.

"Morning!" Wendy greeted Stan. "How's it going?"

"Weird," Stan replied. "Kyle's being acting really oddly since I told him I was gay last night."

"Oh, you're gay?" Wendy asked. "Well, I guess you must be...that was a stupid question."

Kenny and Cartman, however, did not take the news quite so calmly. Both spun around in their seat and gaped at him.

"What the fuck?" Cartman asked. "You're gay and you didn't warn me?"

"Warn you about what, shitbrains?" Stan folded his arms.

"How the fuck should I know? I'm not the fucking deviant."

"Eric, you're probably the most deviant person in the school," Wendy said. "You fed a kid his parents. That's deviant. Being gay isn't."

"Shut up, you hippie. He could have done stuff to me!"

"Like anyone would want to do stuff to you," Stan said. "And I'm gay, not a sex-offender. Jesus Christ."

"So who's hotter, me or Craig?" Kenny asked.

"Uh..." Stan looked from Kenny to Craig, who had overheard at least that part of the conversation and was flipping him off. "You, I guess."

"But I'm surprised at Kyle," Wendy interjected. "I never thought he was homophobic."

"He wasn't taking it too badly until I suggested he blow me," Stan mused. The expression on Wendy's face – a mixture of exasperation, shock and annoyance – made him hurriedly attempt an explanation. "It was a joke!"

"Who's hotter, me or Kyle?" Kenny asked.

"Kyle."

"Did you tell him it was a joke?" Wendy asked.

"I tried, but he sprinted off..."

"And did you speak to him about it this morning?"

"I was going to, but he was busy playing with his phone and telling me off for using the word 'gay'!"

"Maybe he's going to blackmail you," said Cartman, shifting so he could glare at the back of Kyle's head. "That would be so like a Jew..."

"I just don't get it," Stan said, shaking his head.

* * *

It was only after homeroom that Stan got to talk to Kyle alone. Kyle grabbed Stan's arm as the others filtered out. Once they were all gone, Kyle pulled Stan close to him. He was flushed and furtive, a combination which Stan found pretty damn alluring. Then again, he found Kyle alluring in pretty much anything, everything and nothing. Not that he'd seen him in nothing, but dreaming about it was fucking hot.

"You know what you said last night?" he hissed, before Stan could say anything.

"About being gay?"

"No, about sucking your cock."

"I said, that was a joke!" Stan paused. "At least, I tried to say. I sort of yelled it as you were leaving."

"Oh." Kyle blushed even harder. Stan patted him chummily on the shoulder.

"It's okay, dude. You're my best friend. I'm not really going to jump on you and flush years of friendship down the drain." He laughed. "That would be a fucking dumb thing to do, wouldn't it?"

"Dumb. Yeah." Kyle nodded. "Now I have to go to a class now." He hurried out. Stan watched, perplexed. For starters, they had the same class next, and it was in the very classroom that Kyle was in the process of leaving.

* * *

"So, you're gay," Craig stated at lunch time. It was forthright, but that was how Craig was. Stan didn't mind it on this occasion. Not when he had delicious pot pie for lunch. Pot pie was awesome and almost made up for Kyle being all weird. Almost.

"Yeah," he said, eagerly scoffing his food. Clyde, Token and Butters stared at him.

"Seriously?" Token asked.

"Well, yeah," Stan replied, through a mouth full of food.

"When's the wedding?" Craig asked. Stan frowned. The question didn't make sense and he had a pot pie to devour before Cartman tried to steal it.

"Wedding?"

"You and your boyfriend." Stan shook his head, bemused.

"I don't have a boyfriend," he said. "Why, are you volunteering?"

"I meant Kyle," Craig said, ignoring the question. Kyle jerked his head up, but didn't say anything.

"Just 'cause I'm gay, it doesn't automatically make Kyle gay."

"I don't believe that. I think Kyle is your secret gay lover."

"Firstly, the 'gay' in that sentence is redundant, you dumb fuck, since if we were together it would naturally be a homosexual relationship," Kyle interjected. "Secondly, Stan doesn't want to risk ruining our friendship just to pound my sweet ass."

"It is a sweet ass," Bebe agreed as she passed by.

"Thank you, Bebe."

"Anytime."

"So you're looking for a boyfriend, huh, Stan?" Butters asked. Kyle looked displeased, but Stan lost his opportunity to ask what was wrong with his food when Kenny piped up.

"Hey! Why didn't anyone ask if he was doing me?"

"Because they know he's really got a fucking huge gay crush on me, you poor piece of crap," Cartman said.

"No one has a crush on you, fatass."

"I guess I am looking for a boyfriend," Stan mused.

"Neato!" said Butters. "I can help you find one. So, Stan," He lowered his voice. "What do you look for in a guy?"

"Aw, man, I don't know."

"I'm going to go talk to Wendy," Kyle announced. "We have a project due soon." He got up, leaving his food behind. Stan watched him go, temporarily forgetting about his own lunch.

"Yeah, right," Cartman scoffed, pulling Kyle's deserted tray of food over. "If by project, he means ramming her full of kosher sausage."

"You think Kyle likes Wendy?" Stan asked, his face falling.

"They have a lot in common," Butters said. "They're both real smart and care a whole lot about politics."

"They both have sand in their vaginas," said Cartman.

"But what if Kyle has been putting off pursuing Wendy 'cause of me?" Stan asked. "If I'd come out sooner, maybe they'd be together now." Sure, it sucked that Kyle would maybe be hanging out less with him and more with her, and that did hurt, but he should have known that they couldn't just hang out with each other forever. It was natural that Kyle would get a girlfriend at some point. Similarly, he felt a twang at Kyle being with someone else, but he'd just have to get over that.

"You're not at all jealous. Of your best friend, who you're totally gay for, potentially dating your long term on-off girlfriend," Craig stated.

"I just want Kyle to be happy," Stan said. That was entirely truthful – he had no right to hold Kyle back and besides, Kyle's smiles were adorable. "And he's straight." A thought hit him. "Also, I have totally come to terms with him being straight and not interested in me in that way."

"You guys are so dumb," said Craig.

On the other side of the cafeteria, Wendy had her head in her hands. Although Kyle had failed to mention anything unrelated to their project, the fact that he was scowling and kept glancing back at Stan's table suggested that he was perhaps not entirely happy.

"Why don't you like Stan being gay?" she finally asked, sick of the charade being dragged out.

"I am fine with Stan being gay," Kyle replied. "Absolutely fine."

"Mhmm." Kyle attempted to maintain a dignified expression, which soon collapsed into a look of horror.

"Oh god, he'll get a boyfriend."

"Kyle Broflovski, I'm so disappointed in you. I thought you were beyond homophobia."

"What?" Kyle looked confused. "No, it's not that. It's just – I kind of liked it when you two weren't together, 'cause then I got to hang out with him more."

This, admittedly, was not the response Wendy was expecting, but it did fit. Except for the part where-

"Even when we were together, he hung out with you far more," she pointed out.

"Yeah, well." Kyle shrugged awkwardly. "Sorry about that. I guess I just don't like sharing him."

"Wow, I'd never have guessed," she said. "Next you'll be telling me the Pope is Catholic."

"The Pope is a bunny, Wendy," Kyle reminded her. "He probably doesn't have strong religious views, unless they relate to carrots or fucking." Wendy pursed her lips.

"Rabbits like hay more than carrots, actually."

"Whatever. I don't give a crap about rabbits. But what if Stan doesn't need me when he gets a boyfriend?"

Wendy couldn't help it. She dissolved into a fit of giggles that reverberated around the entire cafeteria. Wiping tears from her eyes, she looked Kyle straight in the eyes. And then burst out laughing again.

"Sorry," she said, as Kyle sulked and huffed in annoyance. "It's just – that's the most ridiculous thing I've heard in such a long time. When was the last time either of you went longer than 24 hours without speaking to each other?" Kyle looked blank. "Exactly. You're inseparable."

"For now," Kyle muttered.

"Since you've been toddlers. God, Kyle, do you know how many people would kill to have your relationship?" Kyle shrugged and continued to look moody. "Something else is bothering you, huh?"

"No."

"Sure."

"Really, no. Nothing."

"Oh, Butters looks excited," Wendy commented, glancing over Kyle's shoulder. Kyle spun around and glared at Butters.

"He's probably trying to weasel his way into Stan's pants. Or maybe set him up with some creep. Or maybe Butters is a pimp! Do you think that maybe Butters is a pimp?"

"You know, I'm kind of surprised Stan isn't wanting to date you." That successfully pulled Kyle's attention back.

"Oh, no, we couldn't have that, could we?" he muttered. Wendy, unsurprisingly, looked baffled. "He would never consider dating me. What we have is too great to risk ruining, apparently."

"That's sweet." Kyle's glare was suddenly focused on her. "I mean...oh, that bastard. Not trying to get into his straight best friend's pants."

"He didn't ask my opinion of it," Kyle mumbled, sinking onto the table. He buried his face in his arms. "Clearly, it's just that he has no interest in me."

"He thinks you're hotter than Kenny."

"How you know that?"

"Kenny asked him about five seconds after he told us he was gay."

"That makes sense."

"So...do you want to date Stan?" Kyle shrugged or shuddered. It was pretty hard to tell with him slouched over like that. "That's not a real response, Kyle."

"How would I know?"

"You should know better than anyone."

Kyle lifted his head up, but stayed slumped on the table. He bit his lip and glanced behind him, where Stan was brandishing his fork to keep Cartman from his food. His eyes softened.

"I don't know. I mean...he's incredibly hot, smart, funny, kind, awesome in pretty much every way. Maybe I do want to be with him. But what if we got together and it ruined our friendship? Besides," he said, sourly, "Stan thinks the idea of us being together is just a big joke."

It took a lot of restraint for Wendy to not bang her head on the table. Restraint, along with a fear of what germs might be lurking on the table. In all her years at the school, she'd never known any of them to be cleaned.

"Remind me," she said, her voice weary, "What were you just complaining about Stan doing? Do cast your mind back to the previous ten seconds of this conversation."

"This is totally different!" Kyle insisted, waving his hands in protest. "Really!"

"You object to Stan not wanting to be with you because it might ruin your friendship. But you admit reservations about being with Stan...because it might ruin your friendship. Gosh, what a clear difference there is between the two!"

"No, see, because I think we should consider it, discuss it, draw up a list of pros and cons, mull on the issue for a few months – not just dismiss it out of hand like he has! And laugh about it. As if he'd never actually seriously consider dating me."

"So, you're gay?" Kyle shrugged.

"I don't know."

"Kyle, you must have some idea. What do you jerk off to?" Kyle flushed and pursed his lips.

"It varies," he mumbled, examining his shoes.

"Okay, does it ever involve you screwing Stan? Or vice versa, I guess." Kyle opened his mouth, then shut it again. He leaned back in his chair and looked worried.

"Oh, shit, Wendy, I hadn't thought about how this must be making you feel-"

"Kyle, Stan and I haven't dated for a few years. And I did have suspicions."

"You did? About me or him?"

"Both."

"Oh."

"Oh is right. So. Now we've established that I'm not going to run off and write depressing poetry...well, you know your fantasies and if they've ever included Stan. Surely that gives you your answer."

"But I never thought it'd actually happen," Kyle groaned, rubbing his forehead. "Shit, I thought he was straight. I'm too sucky a best friend to deserve him as a boyfriend."

Wendy started to wish the cafeteria included a bar.

* * *

"Hey, Stan!" Kyle ran up to his best friend, grinning widely. It was the end of the day, which was cause for celebration in and of itself, but Kyle had even more reason to be happy than usual. Wendy had convinced (or rather, begged) him to talk the situation out with Stan. Kyle, after devoting all of the afternoon to the conundrum, had decided that dating his best friend would be awesome. It would be exactly like what they already had, which was...already awesome, but he'd also get laid. It also meant that the hours of meticulous research he'd done last night, when he'd thought that Stan was seriously coming on to him, would be put to use.

Kyle, who had initially felt like he was being presented with a test in a subject that he'd never heard of before, was now sure that he was going to ace said test. Hell, he could probably get a PhD in dick sucking now. He was pretty confident that he'd read close to every article on the subject in existence. All that was left to do now was blow Stan's mind.

"Hi, Kyle!" Stan said. "How did it go with Wendy?"

"Uh, pretty cool, I guess," Kyle said, thrown off track. "We discussed some important stuff."

"Awesome. So you two are dating now?" Kyle was so utterly thrown by this that he stopped walking.

"What?"

"It makes sense," Stan said, throwing Kyle a bright grin. "I mean, you're both so smart-"

"Me and Wendy?"

"Dude." Stan walked back to where Kyle stood and hugged him tight. "It's okay. I don't mind. In fact, I think it's awesome." He checked his watch. "Gotta dash now – I've got a date!"

"Date?"

"Yeah, this guy Butters knows. If it goes well, you'll have to come meet him some time!"

"Oh." Kyle tried to hide his misery. His body, unable to cope with any more confusing emotional crap right now, converted it into anger. "I don't think so! He probably sucks!" He stormed away for a few steps, then stopped. "And not in the good way!"

He resumed storming away, then stopped again.

"And Butters is probably just pimping this guy out!" he yelled as a parting shot.

"Jesus Christ," Stan muttered. He debated running after Kyle, but he was already late for his first ever gay date and Kyle had been a weird asshole all day. Screw Kyle, and not in the fun way. He stormed off in the opposite direction.

Stan's date was not as great as he hoped. Sure, the guy was nice looking, didn't appear to be a serial killer, seemed at least moderately intelligent, but he lacked something. In fact, he lacked several things. He lacked awesome frizzy red hair, for a start, along with an in-depth knowledge of Stan's favourite TV shows and games, a smile that made Stan melt inside, a philosophical bent which Stan sometimes struggled to follow be loved regardless...

But...fuck. The world was full of people who weren't Kyle. If he was going to restrict his dating options to Kyle, then he would be alone since Kyle didn't like guys like that. Stan was pretty sure of this, since Kyle analysed everything in such minute detail that if he had the slightest homosexual urge, he'd be totally aware of it and understand it. And then he'd have come out and told Stan and – and he should really stop the fantasy there, because he was on a date with a perfectly nice guy. A perfectly nice guy who just happened to be, like the vast majority of the world, not Kyle.

He tried to sever that line of thought and nodded with feigned interest at whatever his date was saying. He took a sip of his coffee. It was nice – in fact, the whole café was nice - but Kyle made better coffee.

Damn.

* * *

Kyle was at Wendy's house, completely unaware that he was being thought of in such detail. He was, however, very aware of the fact that Stan was on a date. Wendy was also very aware of the fact, as much as she wished she wasn't. She also wished that Kyle would maybe talk about it to someone other than her, at least for an hour or so, because there was only so many times she could try to convince Kyle that Stan wasn't going to elope with the mysterious date.

"But what if he does?" Kyle kept wailing.

"Just like I said when you last asked that, ten minutes ago, he won't. Because he couldn't leave you."

"But-"

"No buts. Please?"

Kyle sulked, hunched over on the floor by Wendy's bed. Wendy was attempting to get some reading done, having given up hope that Kyle would see sense about the issue, but the constant interruptions were too distracting even for that. She carefully marked her page and turned back to Kyle, only to find him with his nose practically jammed against her mirror.

"Maybe I need a hair cut."

"Then how would we find you in crowds?" Kyle didn't appear to be listening. He was turning his head from side to side.

"Are my ears too big? Is there surgery to fix that?"

"Your ears are just normal ears, Kyle. There's nothing wrong with them." Kyle turned to face Wendy, his expression grave.

"It's my nose. No one would want to date someone with a nose like this. Which surgeon did you use?"

"Remember how I told you how Stan said you were hotter than Kenny? You don't need surgery, Kyle." Kyle's reaction was not the overjoyed beam of delight she was expecting. If anything, he looked even more miserable than before.

"So it's just the idea of dating me that's ludicrous, then," he sighed. "Dammit, why couldn't it be a problem I could fix by throwing money at it?"

"Could it maybe be possible that Stan was telling the truth? That he doesn't want to endanger your relationship?"

"But the joke!"

"Was probably because he wanted to break the tension?" Kyle's only response was to shrug and begin pacing in tight circles. "Kyle... Maybe you need another perspective on this? Like Kenny," Wendy suggested, hopefully.

"Kenny will make me grade him against every guy in the school if he thinks I'm gay."

"Or..."

"Please don't say Cartman."

"Butters?"

"Oh, sure! Butters can tell me how great Stan's date is. Fucking asshole." Kyle continued to pace around Wendy's bedroom. Wendy was seriously starting to worry that he'd wear through the carpet.

"Butters or this guy?"

"Both."

"You know, there's really only one person for you to turn to." Kyle nodded.

"Yeah, you're right," he said, sadly. Wendy touched his arm.

"You're nervous?"

"No, but I feel bad dragging Ike into my problems."

"Dammit, Kyle!" Wendy flung herself back on her bed in exasperation. "I meant Stan!"

"You think I should drag him away from his date?"

"No, I think you should ask to talk to him after the date."

"But I need to talk to him now!"

"Tough."

* * *

Stan was driving home. His date had been fine. And...that was it. A couple of hours chatting in a nice café. His first date with someone of the right gender for him. Fine. He felt a little disappointed and more than a little guilty. Maybe he shouldn't have gone at all. It would have been fairer on his poor date, who had been nothing but pleasant and attentive, and didn't deserve to have wasted his time on someone hopelessly besotted with his straight best friend. Even if his best friend was acting really oddly.

Which could, in itself, have been why his date went so blandly. It was near impossible for him to think of anything else when he and Kyle were fighting, which he thought they might be doing now. He wasn't sure why they were fighting, but that didn't matter. It needed to be fixed.

* * *

Kyle was reading in bed when a knock at the window broke his reverie and almost made him fall off the bed in fright. He pulled back the curtains and smiled at the person out there. He opened the window.

"Cool, you got my text," he said, happily, as Stan climbed in. Stan looked puzzled and checked his phone.

"Nope, my battery must have died. What did it say?"

"Oh." Kyle tried to keep his voice level. If Stan hadn't received the text and he still chose to come over, then it was probably to talk about how great the date had been. A date which Kyle had no interest in learning about. "It's fine. What did you come over for?"

"Uh." Stan shifted awkwardly, staring at his trainers. His resolution, which had been so strong in the car, had suddenly dissolved into nothingness. "I dunno."

"How was the date?" Kyle asked, sourly.

"Fine."

They sat in uncharacteristic silence. That is, until Kyle remembered Stan's earlier assumption, which was begging to be corrected.

"I'm not dating Wendy. Didn't we go over this when we were ten or something?"

"But there's no chance of upsetting me now." Stan squeezed Kyle's hand. He had, in his daydreams about Kyle, forgotten about the events at lunch. His plan had been so fucking stupid. "Dude, you should go for whatever will make you happy."

"But what if I don't know what I want will make me happy?"

"You won't figure it out by drawing up graphs and weighing up your options like it's science. You should just...take the chance." Kyle frowned and his heart sunk. He was really proud of the graphs he'd made since leaving Wendy's, especially since all evidence highly recommended dating Stan.

"Dude, that's totally contradictory to what you said earlier. You were all 'I don't want to risk a great friendship'. Now you're all about taking chances. Which is it?"

"Uh. It's not like you're super close to Wendy-"

"I'm not talking about Wendy." He paused and lowered his breath. "And my graphs are awesome."

"What graphs?" Stan ran his hands through his sleek black hair. "What's going on now?"

Kyle stood up and perched his laptop on the dresser. It was at Stan's eye level and the screen was just about big enough for him to see the pertinent information from where he was sat. Kyle stared at it thoughtfully for a moment, then propped it instead on a chair in front of Stan. It was going to be a little awkward for him to click the mouse from there, but he didn't want the bullet points to be missed. He loaded up Powerpoint.

"Dude, is this about some school project?" Stan asked, wearily. He leaned back on the bed and looked at the screen with disinterest. Said interest was suddenly revived when he read the presentation title.

"Why you and I should consider getting together," Kyle read aloud. "A scientific evaluation of the evidence. Author K. Broflovski, peer reviewed by W. Testaburger and C. Tucker." He reached down to click the mouse – he'd know it'd be awkward, and it was even more so with Stan gaping like that.

"Peer reviewed?" Stan echoed. "What the hell does that even mean?" Kyle fidgeted nervously.

"Well, usually it means the article has been read by other academics. But those two just seemed to confirm my hypothesis, so..." He looked sheepishly back at Stan, then at the presentation. The promise of facts seemed to encourage him and he resumed talking with far more confidence.

"The history. We've been friends since we could talk. Not just friends, but close friends. Incredibly close friends. We've shown – on repeated occasions – that we would both do anything for the other, in spite of numerous obstacles in our paths.

"It would be deceitful and unprofessional-"

"Unprofessional. Jesus Christ," Stan whispered, staring at the Powerpoint.

"To ignore the fact that we have fallen out on rare occasions. Fault has laid with both parties and both parties have taken responsibility to mend the relationship. It is my belief that these disagreements have, if anything, made our bond stronger." He clicked the mouse again and brought up a pie chart.

"The facts. We spend far more time with each other than with anyone else. During peak periods, such as vacations, we spend more time with each other than most married couples do. In spite of this, we never fail to keep ourselves entertained and never tire of each others' company. Even during troughs," he said, clicking the mouse again to reveal another chart, "Such as when you were with Wendy, we still spend by far more time with each other than anyone else. It is a constant pattern that we spend all our free time with each other, a pattern which has held stable for over a decade.

"In conclusion: I propose we capitalise on this. We can be almost entirely sure that we will work out, given our past history and relationship in general. Doing so will mean that, uh...I don't have to hate any of your boyfriends who might otherwise get in the way of our awesome time." He coughed. "Any questions?" Stan raised a hand, his eyes slightly glazed over.

"You realise that I have a sex drive and will want to fuck you senseless, right?"

"Totally. Last night I thoroughly studied gay sex and I can blow your mind. And your cock." Kyle smirked. "Definitely your cock."

"Why the fuck didn't you tell me you were gay?"

"I..." Kyle's smirk faded away and he crouched down on the floor. Stan leaned forward. "I...I don't know if I am. I don't know what I am. I've jerked off to porn of girls, but I've never really been interested in dating any girls we know. And sometimes..." His voice turned to nothing more than a whisper. "Sometimes – fuck, more than sometimes – I'd do it whilst thinking about you. It felt so good and so wrong." He hugged his knees close to his chest. "And I always thought you were straight, so I didn't give it much thought. I guess...you're the only one who I ever really wanted like that. So what was the point of labelling my sexuality?"

Stan reached out and cupped Kyle's chin in his hand. He stared at the bright green eyes that were shining with tears, the strong cheeks and nose that made Kyle's face so distinctive. The wild shock of red hair which he couldn't help thinking about on his date.

"Why did you run off last night?" he asked, his own voice soft. Kyle emitted a soft laugh.

"Duh. If you were going to randomly proposition guys, I wanted to make sure I gave the best performance."

"I really didn't mean that seriously."

"I guess I was just hopeful." Kyle smiled briefly, then stared at Stan. "So...do you want me? If what you said before was just a cover for not being attracted to me, that's cool, I don't want to pressure you into anything, and I guess you want to play the field or whatever before settling down, if you ever want to-"

Stan broke off Kyle's rambling with a hard, eager kiss. His heart pounded as Kyle's lips seemed to be frozen, unmoving, against his own. Then, with a quiet sigh of relief and content, the lips parted and let Stan hungrily enter his mouth. After what felt like both eternity and a mere millisecond, the two boys moved apart.

"That was awesome," Kyle said, grinning sheepishly. Stan patted the empty space on the bed beside him.

"It'll be a lot easier if you come sit up here."

"Yeah. I think I'm getting pins and needles." Kyle hopped back onto his own bed. They stared awkwardly at each other for a minute, then Kyle inched closer and put his arms around Stan. Stan smiled, easily pulling the more slender boy down on top of him. Kyle chuckled. "Since when did 'sit' become synonymous with 'straddle'?" he asked, amused.

"Since... You know, I could think of a comeback, but that would waste making-out time. Do you really want that?"

"Fuck, no." So they didn't.


End file.
